


Sexy Times In Latvian Sex-Ed

by MillyDelLuz



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Everyone Thinks They're Together, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Really Just One Character, but still, no nothing else at all, nothing else happening here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:20:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24221200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MillyDelLuz/pseuds/MillyDelLuz
Summary: Peter thought for a moment. Raivis was pretty perfect, even he couldn’t deny this, but did he really want to do all that with him? Plus, he’d only just met Raivis, so that was a second count. He thought about the man’s slim figure, picturing doing anything with him. Even though Peter was relatively innocent, this part wasn’t that difficult. “Yeah, let’s do it.”
Relationships: Latvia/Sealand (Hetalia)
Kudos: 6





	Sexy Times In Latvian Sex-Ed

**Author's Note:**

> I aged up the characters, and they're both 18 in this. It is not underage, and they're both pretty chill through the whole thing, so it shouldn't be considered "bad" on these counts. I may do a sequel if anyone suggests it, but this took way longer than I would've liked it to. Anyway, here it is.

Peter shuffled into the room, holding his books dolefully in his hands. It was another day at school, which was bad enough as it was, but this class was almost considered worse. This was health class. Despite being a bright senior and preparing to graduate in a matter of months, Peter was failing this class. He never knew the answers to questions, all of the sex-ed knowledge getting lost in his mind. The words never matched up with the parts, and he forgot everything no matter how hard he tried.

Peter sat at his desk, which was conveniently located at the front of the room, right next to where the teacher officially taught. He knew that this had been done because the stupid sex-ed professor, Mr. Bonnefoy, had it out for him. Inside, he also knew it was due to the fact he’d been nearly failing the class, but he prefered to chalk it up to Mr. Bonnefoy’s stupidity and insane teaching methods.

This particular morning, however, Mr. Bonnefoy wasn’t at his seat as per usual. Peter looked around. “Hey, Lilli! Think we have a substitute today?”

The blonde girl shrugged, looking Peter in his eager blue eyes. Her voice was high and soft, and Peter appreciated that as they watched more students filter into the small room. “Maybe. Mr. Bonnefoy is usually on time, I can’t imagine why he would be so late like this.”

The bell rang, and Peter’s seat partner, Charlotte, walked in. She was notorious for her air of never caring, and her classically Australian accent. The two of them fought not infrequently, but they were still close friends and relied heavily upon each other for making up homework and such. “Allo, where’s Mr. Bonnefoy?” she demanded, sitting down beside Peter.

The rest of the class stared blankly at each other, no one quite knowing a decent answer. The room was dead silent, Peter bet he could’ve heard a pin drop. With this, the kids in the back started to riot, their voices sending a low rumbling din around the room. Peter heard footsteps. “You guys, he’s coming!”

The low roar died down and everyone sat at their seats, craning their necks to try and find out who the teacher was. Peter couldn’t imagine it was Mr. Bonnefoy. He swung his legs out of boredom, and Charlotte smacked him across the back, not particularly lightly. “Cut it out, you’re going to kick me, you git!” She hissed at him through closed teeth, and Peter reluctantly stopped.

He stared down at the desk, burying his head in his arms. Peter was a little tired, since school started so early each morning. He often wished his parents wouldn’t make him go, but it wasn’t really a choice.

At that moment, a soft voice came in the door. Peter looked up in astonishment. It wasn’t Mr. Bonnefoy’s voice - if it had been, there would’ve been a thick, french accent. It wasn’t Mr. Jones’s voice either - he did share the room when he taught the most amazing science classes ever, but it wasn’t him. It was… different. “Hello, class,” it said, certainly masculine but calming, “I’m Mr. Galante, and I’ll be taking over for Mr. Bonnefoy. He has paternity leave, for the adoption of his new son Matthew.”

 _Oh._ Peter remembered now, before they’d all set off last week, the sex-ed teacher had been talking excitedly about his new son who he’d be adopting in the next week. The kid was pretty young, so it made sense that he’d be off for a while. Peter had been glad to see him go, sticking his tongue out childishly as he left class that afternoon. “Bye, bye, Bonnefoy!” He’d called, prancing out of the classroom like a silly kid.

Peter looked up quickly, his eyes scanning the boy. It sounded funny to call him a boy, but that’s what Mr. Galante was. He wasn’t very tall, with a small, frail stature, and sickly large blue eyes. He hunched over a little bit, but with a strange confidence Peter somehow admired. He liked looking at Mr. Galante, and immediately he could tell this class was going to be a million times better than the standard sex-ed classes he usually attended. The teacher started out similarly, reviewing all the parts with the class.

“Now, any time you have sex, you have to be protected,” Mr. Galante explained, leaning back against the desk, “If you don’t, you risk the chance of having pregnancy and what else?”

Someone in the back of the room raised their hand, and Mr. Galante pointed, acknowledging the student. “And STDS,” the kid said, and the teacher gave a firm nod, his lack-lustre brown curls bouncing playfully around his face.

Peter, meanwhile, hadn’t said a word, not his usual rowdy self. During Mr. Bonnefoy’s classes, Peter had made it his goal to mess everything up to the fullest extent he could. He yelled out the most inappropriate things he could think of (which were few and far between, Peter was known for his general over-innocence), and screaming random things at Mr. Bonnefoy to get him to lose his composure and mess up the lesson. This either worked and got Peter sent home or didn’t work, and he still got sent home, but this time Peter couldn’t bring himself to crash the class, not like he’d always done.

Halfway through, he felt a poke on his back. Peter turned around, annoyed. Maverick Jones, the son of the science teacher, had poked him with a pencil. Peter whined, and turned around. “What do you want?” he demanded, in a hushed tone he rarely used in life, let alone class.

Maverick tossed a piece of crumpled paper at Peter, and he caught it with an annoyed expression. Peter unfolded it, reading the messily scrawled words. Maverick had probably written them with a dying marker, or maybe crayon; Peter couldn’t really tell. He uncrumpled the letter, reading it out carefully on the desk to himself. _Yo Pete! Someone has a teacher crush! X - Maverick!_ Peter felt his cheeks pinken. It was pretty foolish to pass a note, but Peter didn’t care. Just as he was about to cast it aside, a shadow loomed over his desk. “Passing notes? Here, may I have it? I don’t want to be left out.”

Peter glanced up in surprise, hearing the voice of none other than Mr. Galante. His breath caught, the note still unfolded in his hand. Mr. Galante was particularly young, and Peter couldn’t imagine he was any older than himself. Maybe he was some genius who had skipped a grade, graduated early, and came here to teach. Peter thought for a moment. “You want… my note?”

Mr. Galante nodded firmly, putting out his hand to take it from Peter, who reluctantly abided. His hand grazed Mr. Galante’s by accident, and Peter felt a tiny rush of embarrassment. Mr. Galante opened up the piece of paper the same way he’d seen Peter do, and nodded slightly as he read it. With a cheerful smile, Mr. Galante folded it up neatly and tucked it into his pant pocket. Peter bit his lip in mild frustration, wishing he’d kept the note better concealed. The teacher turned to walk back to the center of the board, but pivoted back for a second. “Oh, and ‘Pete’?”

A series of the girls giggled in the back, not really paying attention to the teacher. “Yeah?” Peter asked, a little annoyed about the letter snatching.

He took it out for one second and waved it gently in the air before shoving it back in the pocket. “See me after class.”

Peter leaned back onto the back of his hand with a lusty sigh as he watched Mr. Galante pace up and down, explaining about sex. It was mostly analyzing intercourse and looking at the steps of the process, from ejaculation to fertilization, but Peter didn’t really care. It wasn’t _interesting_ \- and for someone who got incredibly bored incredibly often, Peter knew he’d need some kind of interaction to tide him through any lesson. Whether it came in the form of a verbal work, or notes, or _especially_ hands-on, it was the only way Peter could actually learn anything.

He sighed. Mr. Galante’s soft brown curls bounced as he paced, and Peter imagined what they must feel like - so nice, so soft, so- he felt a hard flick on his arm. Peter glared beside him at Charlotte, rubbing his arm like it had hurt. “What was that for, you git?”

“I see what you’re doing,” she whispered back, careful that the teacher wouldn’t notice, “You’re staring at him. You have a crush. You have a crush and you won’t admit how glad you are he’s keeping you after.”

Peter was about to respond with a rude comment back, but he received a sharp glare from Mr. Galante, and settled for pulling one of the waves in Charlotte’s ponytail. She hissed from behind clenched teeth, but only Peter noticed this. Then, he settled back down on his arm, back to daydreaming about the handsome teacher. His eyes, too - so expressional, but undeniably wearing sadness in them. Peter loved the blue color, practically drowning in the unhappiness they displayed. Mr. Galante was a rather timid fellow, it seemed, but he did try hard to appear confident during class.

Before Peter realized it, class was over and the bell had rung. He was still sitting at his desk when Maverick came by, snapping in front of his eyes. Peter blinked angrily, “What is it?”

“Date time!” Maverick sang, waltzing out of the room.

“Oh, the nerve of some people!” Peter muttered, clenching one fist by his side.

The final students left the classroom, and Peter remained at his desk. He tried to be polite, although it sounded marginally forced. “Mr. Galante? What can I do for you?”

Mr. Galante smiled and held up the note. “A crush? Hey, you can call me Raivis. I don’t want to be a teacher, I want to be a friend. I don’t think I’m that much older than you.”

“Okay, then I guess you can call me Pete. So what did you want me to stay after for?”

“Well, a note I got from your teacher. He says you’re failing, and… well… I wanted to know if there was some way I could help you out.”

Peter laughed, “I’m really not sure you could, I’d have to have some kind of hands-on activity most of the time to be able to get the stuff… This class doesn’t really have that, so I don’t get the stuff. I wonder if they’ll let me graduate without this credit…”

“No, stop,” Raivis put his hand up, “I… I have a suggestion for you, and I know you’ll remember all the terms you have to, but it’d take your agreement.”

“Yeah, if I fail this class my parents won’t be all that happy. What’s the idea?”

“Well…” Raivis squirmed a little bit on the desk he leaned against, “We could try it out. I’m not saying this as a teacher. I’m saying it as a friend. I know you’ll remember all the stuff, and you’ll make it through the class.”

Peter thought for a moment. Raivis was pretty perfect, even he couldn’t deny this, but did he really want to do all _that_ with him? Plus, he’d only just met Raivis, so that was a second count. He thought about the man’s slim figure, picturing doing anything with him. Even though Peter was relatively innocent, this part wasn’t that difficult. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

“What class do you have?”

“I’m off this block, then I’ve got Math.”

Raivis shrugged, “Well, you’re already here, so if you want…”

Peter stepped up to Raivis. He stood a couple inches above him, although the two were nearly the same height. He leaned into a kiss that seemed to take Raivis by surprise for the first couple moments before he met it back. Peter smiled as he kissed, enjoying the sweet taste of Raivis’s mouth. Raivis pulled away and the two of them headed to the back of the classroom, further away from the windows and door where they’d have been easily spotted.

Raivis ran his fingers through Peter’s straight blond hair that fell perfectly around his head. The haircut was a bit longer than most young adults like Peter wore theirs, but he pulled off the look seamlessly. “You know, I didn’t realize this would happen,” Peter said, in between kisses, “But it’s not bad. Not bad at all.”

After a few moments of this, enjoying each other’s company, Raivis paused. Dusty afternoon sunlight streamed through the window onto them, the flowers outside blowing in the wind. “Are you ready for this?” He asked, looking in Peter’s eager blue eyes, now partially lidded.

“Yeah! And after, I’ll give you cookies from my lunch!” he laughed, “I saved some for special occasions.”

“Sure,” Raivis bent down, carefully focusing on his work. “I’m taking yours out, okay? I’ll be gentle, I promise. Tell me if you’ve had enough.”

Peter nodded, and braced himself against the counter, feeling the warm hands on his waist. The fabric of his shorts slinked down, just past his hips. The room wasn’t cold, exactly, but Peter recognized the draft of air against hip bare skin. The touch was still incredibly light and gentle, just like Raivis seemed to be when his more timid side showed out in front of the class. Peter sighed, and although it felt different from what he knew generally, it wasn’t something he was opposed to. Raivis looked up, meeting Peter’s youthful gaze. “I’m going to do things, and I’ll tell you the vocabulary as we go. When you’re done, we’re done.”

Peter nodded, closing his eyes so he could lean back on the counter for support. “Yeah, okay, and then we can have cookies!”

He took Peter’s member in his hands, and standing up, whispered in his ear the word for it. “Okay, do you have that one?” Peter nodded again, this time just trying to focus his mind solely on everything going on around him - both to enjoy, and to try and recall the terms. 

Raivis ran his hands down it carefully, trying to gauge Peter’s expression and reactions to make sure he didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, as soon as he’d walked into the room, he realized he’d had more than a tiny crush on the senior. While acting on this really wasn’t Raivis’s forte, the note confirmed that maybe he’d be able to solve Peter’s problem a little more… creatively. After all, it would suck if he didn’t make it to graduation. He put his lips and tongue down, tenderly running them up and down the regions. He lingered at the end, feeling Peter move closer to him. Raivis stood up, whispering this next word in Peter’s ear. “Good on this term?”

“Yeah,” Peter’s voice quivered almost noticeably, his hands running through Raivis’s soft hair. He’d thought about doing this in class, getting the chance to feel it, but he didn’t expect he’d actually be allowed to do it. With Raivis doing things like _that_ to him, though, Peter was certain he was permitted to touch the shining curls. “Have you… done this before?”

If Peter didn’t know better, he would’ve said Raivis’s quiet laugh sounded almost unhappy. “I guess you could say that,” Raivis pulled away for a moment, Peter wishing he’d go back to his work, “But… I like this much better than what happened then.”

Peter felt the locks moving up and down beneath him, Raivis’s head still at his waist. It was so strange, but the terms Raivis had said so far, Peter remembered. They came with a feeling, with an emotion, with _something_ unplaceable Peter had always known he wanted. He sighed heavily, feeling his heartbeats come quicker and quicker in his chest. Parts of him were throbbing, and Peter wanted more of everything. More of Raivis, whatever he was doing, and more feelings like the ones that seemed so strange to him at the beginning of class. “I like this too,” Peter murmured, his speaking abilities dulled partially by his mind, “It’s nice.” 

Raivis looked up. Peter’s face was flushed a light pink, his breath coming out slowly and heavily. Raivis whispered the next word in his ear, pulling back for a moment. “Pete, does this feel okay? Like good?” he asked, his whispery voice a massive comfort to the Sealandic boy.  
  
“Yeah,” Peter bit his lip, “It’s better than my lunch cookies!”

This was the highest praise he could think of at the moment, with his heart rate going faster and faster by the second, tingles of excitement running up and down his spine. His face burned with passion, and with all that going on, the next thing he could think about were tasty lunch cookies. His mom, Tino, made them once a week with Peter’s help, and they were among his favorite things in the world. Raivis bent down again, and Peter could feel his warm breath on his hips and waist.

This time he took the member entirely into his mouth, and Peter gasped. “Is everything okay?” Raivis looked up, a little bit nervous.

“It’s all fine,” Peter tried to control his breathing, but failed at it. Raivis’s face had begun to blush the same way, and Peter shot him a smile, “It’s good. And… I think I’m getting the things Mr. Bonnefoy always explains about - like all the parts. I guess I couldn’t picture them or something.”

In reality, Peter knew his sudden memory wasn’t just because he could picture all the parts and the processes, but he felt them, lapsing into a mindset he wasn’t used to. Raivis was still there, perfect, melancholy Raivis, and there was nothing Peter wanted more. Raivis wrapped his mouth around the member again, feeling the Sealandic boy bucking slightly with the pressure. “Are there any other… terms… you want to go over?”

Peter exhaled hard, before doing his best to speak up, “There’s one I don’t get but… it might be outside your parameters.”

“What’s that?” Raivis asked, pulling away again from Peter.

Peter looked at the young Latvian below him, and quickly spoke, “So… Mr. Bonnefoy always talks about this thing called ‘penetration’, and that I get when it’s with girls. But… boys can’t do that too, right?”

 _Of course it was a stupid question!_ Peter thought angrily to himself. _Of course they can’t - didn’t Mr. Bonnefoy say that there was something girls had that let that work, and boys don’t have that._ His true innocence shined through, and Raivis knew he could answer him. “Yeah, they can,” he said, standing up to caress the Sealandic boy’s fair hair, “It’s just… a little different, if that makes sense.”

Peter nodded, the draft of air running past his damp hips. “Yeah, it makes sense,” he replied, “I still don’t know how it works, though.”

Raivis cocked his head to the side, “Are you saying… do you want me to… show you?”

Peter looked at the clock. Despite how much time had felt like had passed, only twenty minutes from the end of the last class registered. There were only two things on Peter’s mind: cookies, and Raivis. “Why not?” Peter asked, leaning in to kiss Raivis again. He was sweet, his lips tasting like sugar and cranberries. Peter wondered if he also had a desert of some kind lying around somewhere.

Raivis gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement, and turned away from the Sealandic, undoing his buckle. “Wait, what do I do?” Peter asked, confusion in his eyes.

Raivis put his hand on Peter’s shoulder, speaking to him with his comforting and soft Latvian accent, “Just, stand there, your back facing me. Do you want me to tell you what I’m doing before I do it?”

Peter shrugged, his knees shaking as he leaned on the counter of the science room. “Up to you. I don’t care as long as I get cookies later.” He could hear the quiet rustling of fabric coming from the edge of the room as Raivis fumbled with his belt, carefully trying not to mess up the fabric in any way. He was like that, always doing his best to keep his things neat and tidy - even if they were rather old looking. All his clothes were in an older style, although he’d done his best over the years to patch up the worn parts.

Raivis approached Peter, hugging him from behind. Peter could feel the Latvian’s warm breath and skin on his own, and he breathed deeply, enjoying the moment. For a second he wondered what his parents, Tino and Berwald would say if they’d known what he was doing, but he ignored the thought. He was eighteen after all, graduating in a few months and moving out in a few more. What sovereignty did they have over him? He could do whatever the hell he wanted! Peter held Raivis’s hands that rested over his shoulders, on Peter’s chest. “Are you ready?” Raivis asked shakily, “I haven’t really done this much before, but I’ll do my best.”

“Okay,” Peter mumbled, thinking about both how sweet Raivis smelled and cookies. He’d like to share cookies later, maybe they could do that after this was done - if there was time next before the next class, of course. 

He could feel the tip of Raivis pushing gently on him until he was partially inside. Raivis brushed several long strands of Peter’s hair out of the way just to whisper in his ear. It hurt a little bit, and Peter gave a slight moan. He smiled at Raivis, trying to turn his head so they could look each other in the eyes. “This is it,” Raivis whispered, careful not to hurt Peter, “This is… how it works for men.”

Raivis felt his breath come faster, too, warmth pooling in his lower regions. Peter smiled, shuddering, “I guess I won’t fail the class,” he laughed, resting his head on Raivis’s, “Thanks, Raivis.”

“Of course,” Raivis leanded harder into him, gently petting Peter’s head, “I really like you, Peter.”

“And I really like y-”

“OH MY FUCKING MCGOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THE CLASSROOM?”

Raivis looked up, and Peter tried to crane his neck, Raivis still _inside_ him. He hadn’t gotten all the way in, and aside from his cookie, Peter wanted more of Raivis. In the doorway was Mr. Jones, the horrified science teacher. From behind his glasses, his eyes were large and surprised. He was also a newer teacher, fresh out of high school a few years ago, and he still maintained a youthful innocence. His mouth was open like a spectacle case. Raivis gasped, and kissed Peter lightly, pulled out. Peter shuddered, catching himself with both hands on the countertop.

Raivis quickly fumbled with the belt buckle, which he’d undone to have better access to Peter. His face was bright red, Peter’s too. “Mr. Jones?” Peter asked, trying in vain to pull up his pants and cover up the slight mess he’d started to make. It wasn’t easy, and he could still feel the mild bulge in his shorts. 

“Ew what is up with you guys?” he exclaimed, setting his things down on the teacher’s desk, before recovering almost instantly. “Hey, we have a few - Rav, you and your boyfriend want to come grab something from the cafeteria real quick? I’m hungry.”

“Sure,” Peter glanced over at Raivis, “I wanna get some of my mom’s cookies I told you about, he makes them really well.”

What Mr. Jones had said did sink in, though. His boyfriend. Not like Peter would be opposed, not with what they’d just done, together. Raivis turned and gave Peter a soft, warm kiss. It felt like warm, freshly baked bread, the sweet taste of berries reminding him of everything. “Sure! You and Rav go get your cookies, and we can meet back here. We have fifteen minutes till the next class!”

As Mr. Jones headed off, Peter froze in his tracks; a thought occurred to him. “Mr Jones! I know you know my parents, Berwald and TIno pretty well, but… you won’t tell them about this, right? I want to tell them… in my own time.”

Mr Jones gave a casual shrug, ignoring the majority of the connotations to what had just happened. He turned back to Peter and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Listen, dude, all I saw was two friends having a good time. No reason I need to go spilling’ all the beans, right? You two boys have fun, come back with the cookies. Hey, can I have one? I’ll grab you guys sodas from the place too.”

“Sure, you can have a cookie,” Peter grinned, “And soda would be great! Thanks!”

Mr. Jones ran off down the hallway, jumping and clicking his heels every so often. Peter turned to the Latvian boy beside him, and tenderly patted his head full of curls. “So he said you’re my boyfriend? Are you?”

Raivis gave a half-hearted smile. He did want that, to be sure, and Peter wouldn’t be a bad option. Not bad for someone he’d essentially just met. He thought for a moment. “I mean, do you want more lessons? I’d be happy to be your boyfriend.”

“You... you mean we could do that again?” Peter asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

He knew in his heart that Tino and Berwald wouldn’t mind - okay, maybe they’d mind that he’d straight up fucked the guy before he knew him, but Peter was certain that after they met Raivis that would all be forgiven. He was so kind, so gentle, and Peter had a sense of safety just being with him. Raivis reached down to hold his hand, trying to ignore the still-prevalent bulge. “Of course, if you want. But right now, you said we have cookies to get, right?”

“Cookies! I almost forgot!”

Peter held on tightly to the Latvian’s hand, pulling him along as he sprinted through the halls to his locked (and the cookies). First sex, then a boyfriend, and now cookies? This day would truly be one of the best ones yet for the young Sealandic.


End file.
